


Cool for the Summer

by DossierArchangel



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Closeted Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dimitri and Edelgard were raised together, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Humor, In Denial Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Ingrid is a disaster lesbian, Leonie and Byleth are sisters, Lesbian Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Minor Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Minor Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra/Bernadetta von Varley, Minor Leonie Pinelli/Raphael Kirsten, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, One-Sided Mercedes von Martriz/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Possible smut, Religious Guilt, Sexuality Crisis, Sylvain is a gremlin, haven't decided yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DossierArchangel/pseuds/DossierArchangel
Summary: Five times Ingrid was called out for being an absolute disaster closet case and the one time she actually accepts it.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 70
Kudos: 136





	1. 1: Sylvain

**Author's Note:**

> This is one 100 percent self-indulgent. I blame my bitterness over Ingrid and Dorothea not getting the A support and paired ending they rightly deserved and the Fire Emblem Heroes summer outfits. I also blame Ingrid being written as the GAYEST CHARACTER TO NOT BE GAY. This was supposed to be a funny/fluffy little one-shot that got entirely away from me. A dash of fluff. A dash of angst. A dash of religious trauma. A dash of found family. Plus side, it's over halfway written already.

Ingrid grumbled under her breath as she looked over herself in the mirror for a third time. One of her hands ran through recently cut locks. She needed a change and had always wanted shorter hair. Before the day prior, her flaxen mane went mid-way down her back and was always styled in her signature braid; now it rested just below her chin and barely reached the nape of her neck. Her choppy bangs were gone and instead framed her face nicely. The cut was light, airy, and made the summer heat that much more bearable. It was also done in open defiance against her father’s ideas of femininity. She could just imagine the prominent vein in his forehead when he finally saw her hair. She had never felt more like herself. 

“Yo Ingrid!” Came a shout from behind her as the door to her bedroom slammed open, “We going to Dimitri and Edelgard’s beach house this weekend?!”

“Jesus Sylvain! Do you ever knock?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain, my dear Ingrid?” Sylvain gasped mockingly, “Why what would your parents think?”

Ingrid glowered at her best friend as she turned around to face him. He appeared far too smug, a self-satisfied smirk painted his features and a spark of mischief in his eyes. Sylvain leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed over his broad chest. He wore only a pair of khaki joggers that were slung low on his hips.

“It’s like you’re allergic to shirts or something,” Ingrid stated with a roll of her eyes. 

“Can’t cover up all this sexy,” he replied as he gestured over his toned physique and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Am I making you think of switching teams? Finally going to give ol’ Sylvain a ride?”

“Ugh, you’re so disgusting. Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because you love me.”

“I hate that you’re right. And for the record, just because I don’t want to sleep with you doesn’t mean I’m gay, Sylvain. It’s called having standards.”

Ingrid threw her hands up in the air and let out a huff of frustration. Sylvain had only been in her presence for a minute or so and she was all but ready to punch him. What had started as a joke about her sexuality in an effort to get under her skin back in high school had brought on more serious and frequent talks from Sylvain as they approached their senior year of college. 

“Ing, you have not shown interest in one guy our entire lives.”

“I had a crush on Glenn for years,” she retorted, frustration evident by the tightness in her voice. 

“No, you hero worshipped Glenn. You emulated him. We all did. It was always, ‘Oh Glenn is so good at soccer. Oh Glenn is so smart.’ Not ‘Oh I want to kiss Glenn and have his babies.’”

“You don’t know that! I could have thought about him like that and not told you.”

“We tell each other everything! I told you about the very confusing wet dream I had about your granny when we were fourteen. Your granny, Ingrid!”

At that Ingrid doubled over in laughter, “Oh God. I had forgotten about that. Thank you. I really needed that laugh.”

She figured he wasn’t going to give up on this conversation and made the decision that she did not want to be standing for it. Ingrid made her way over to the full size bed resting in the corner of her bedroom. Throwing herself onto it, she bounced as she scooted back so she was resting against the teal colored wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. Sylvain took that as a cue and sat next to her, their shoulders brushing. 

“Okay fine, forget Glenn then. Let’s say he doesn’t count. I still dated Ashe for two years in high school. We slept together for heaven's sake!”

“You guys literally nerded out about Game of Thrones and D&D for two years and only decided to bang because you’d been dating for so long and were going to different colleges. You came crying to me about how awkward it was afterwards and he came out of the closet. He’s dating Dedue now.”

“It’s not like I’ve been celibate since then! Claude and I had a one night stand sophomore year.”

“And did you enjoy it?” Sylvain asked with a raised eyebrow. He already knew the answer. 

“We were both drunk. I’m sure it was perfectly fine.”

“Sex shouldn’t be just ‘fine’ Ingrid. It should be blissful, leave you quivering and wanting. You have slept with all of two guys. For a total of two times ever and you hated both of them.”

“I’ve been too focused on soccer and school Sylvain,” Ingrid argued, “Not all of us have parents that can afford to pay for everything. If my grades slip or I stop winning games I can kiss my scholarships goodbye.”

“My point is I have never seen you actually interested in any guy. I’ve never seen you react with anything other than annoyance when any guy hits on you. And come on, we’ve known each other our whole lives, lived together the last two years and you’ve never even tried to jump on this once.”

Sylvain grinned at her lecherously. 

“You’re right Sylvain,” she whispered with a low voice as she fluttered her eyelashes at him, “It’s been you this whole time. It’s always been you. You’ve seen right through my act. All this time, just playing hard to get. Take me. Take me now you stud.”

Ingrid fell to her side, the back of her hand dramatically falling to her forehead as she twisted back into his lap. Sylvain’s face went cherry, almost enough to match his red hair. He tried to say something but all that came were choked splutters. Ingrid used the momentary distraction to tickle his sides. Sylvain tried to pull away as what he would consider to be very unmanly giggles fell from his lips. 

“Ingrid!” He squealed as he got out of reach of her hands, “That was evil! Dorothea is rubbing off on you and not in the ways I’m sure you wish she was.”

“Dorothea is just a friend! Just because she likes women doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“Yeah, such platonic interactions with your friend,” Sylvain responds with a scoff, “Every time you two are in a room together everyone else has to suffocate on the overwhelming sexual tension. ‘Oh my Ingrid, you look so fetching in your uniform. I may just have to pouce.’”

“First of all, that was an uncanny Dorothea impression. Second of all, that’s just Dorothea. She flirts with everyone. I think it’s how she shows affection.”

“Explain how  _ you _ act then. With your nervous rambling and  _ constant _ blushing when she’s around.”

“I get embarrassed. She knows I’m easy to tease. That’s how our friendship works.”

No longer fearing an onslaught of tickles from Ingrid, Sylvain relaxed back next to her letting his cheek rest against the top of her head. 

“I’m just going to spitball here, okay? No interruptions. Exhibit A: You have never acted nervous with a guy ever. You have never seemed to reciprocate interest in any guy. And I exist, Ingrid. Exhibit B: The few physical encounters you have had with men, and I’m not even just talking about bumping uglies here, Ing, any physical encounters, kissing, making out, Jesus, anything beyond platonic cuddling; you have described it all as unsatisfying to me. Exhibit C: I have seen you react nervously around multiple women. Any time Dorothea flirts with you, you turn into an absolute wreck. Any time Mercedes gets touchy with you you can’t formulate speech and look like you’ve been out in the sun for hours. You had a crush on Professor Eisner’s daughter when she TA-ed for his English Composition class freshman year! Exhibit D: You own an unGodly amount of polos and short sleeve button ups, you play soccer, your walls are full of posters of women, and you’re obsessed with Hozier, Ingrid. Hozier.”

“That’s not fair! Everyone had a crush on Byleth. That woman defies sexuality!”

“That’s it? That’s the only argument you have here?”

“I’m not a lesbian Sylvain. And exhibit D was just a bunch of stereotypes. Why does it even matter? Why can’t I just focus on school and soccer and trying to get recruited for a professional team?” 

Sylvain let out an exasperated sigh. The heels of his palms pressed into his eyes before he ran them down his face. 

“You can, Ing, I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy. I love you and I know how your parents are. I thought if I kept bringing it up maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to talk to me. I hate the thought of you keeping a part of yourself locked away because of your parents’ expectations. We’ve all dealt with the burdens of our parents for way too long. And if you  _ were _ a lesbian I would still love you. I wouldn’t look at you any differently. Dima and Felix would both still love you and treat you the same. We’re your family. And I’d kick anyone’s ass that makes you feel like you can’t be you. Including your parents.”

Ingrid felt the prickle of tears build up in the corner of her eyes and quickly wiped them before they could fall. She let out a wet chuckle. 

“I appreciate you, Sylvain. But just let me figure things out in my own time, okay?”

“Okay, Ing, I can do that.”

She laid her head against the reassuring warmth of his shoulder, “And it is perfectly normal for a straight woman to have a poster of Alex Morgan on her wall. She’s won two World Cups.”

“I know, Ing.”

“Platonic spoons and Cutthroat Kitchen?” Ingrid asked as she peered up at the redhead. 

“I’ll go set up the TV,” he replied, “Do you want me to grab the carton of Rocky Road from the freezer?”

She nodded her head in the affirmative and he stepped out of her room. An exhausted breath deflated from her chest. Ingrid took a moment to study her room. Her walls were painted teal. Thankfully they were allowed to paint their rooms as long as they painted the walls white again before they moved out. The space was decorated with a few posters and some pictures of her friends and siblings. Above the head of her bed was a poster of Alex Morgan making a shot towards goal. Perfectly normal. Ingrid played soccer. Alex Morgan was one of the best female soccer players in the world. There was a poster of Sansa Stark on the opposite wall in her Queen of the North regalia. Again, perfectly fine. Sansa had some of the best development in Game of Thrones and ended up Ingrid’s favorite character. Lastly was a framed RWBY print signed by the voice actresses for team RWBY. It’s a great show with a kickass team of women. It didn’t make her gay. It’s completely normal to have a dream or two about Yang Xiao Long. Who didn’t? Ingrid’s eyes darted to her open closet and noted the array of patterned button-ups that hung from the shelf. Sylvain liked to joke that her style fell somewhere between eccentric hipster and middle-aged white dad. She just thought they were comfortable. Her Garreg Mach Saints soccer uniform was laying at the top of her clothes hamper, the cleats tossed haphazardly next to it. She was proud to wear that black and gold uniform. Playing soccer didn’t make her a lesbian. There were tons of other straight women on the team. Sylvain could screw off with his damn stereotypes. 

Her room was one of four identical rooms. After spending freshman year in the dorms her and the boys decided to get one of those off-campus student apartments. Despite all three of her best friends coming from money they agreed to one of the cheaper accommodations so she could afford rent with the little bit of grant and scholarship money left over after tuition and books. A part time job at the Starbucks on campus covered gas, groceries, and the occasional night out. Dimitri also established the communal “Annoy Ingrid jar”. Any time any of them did anything to piss her off they had to put a dollar in the jar and at the end of the month they would all go out and whatever cash was in the jar went to cover Ingrid’s portion. She had tried to argue, but Dimitri said that it was only fair since she had to live with three messy dudes. Naturally Sylvain ended up funding most of their end of the month excursions. 

“You coming?” Ingrid heard Sylvain shout from the living room. 

With a roll of her shoulders she made her way to the living room just in time to see Sylvain throw a five dollar bill in the “Annoy Ingrid jar”. He looked sheepish as he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. 

“I figured this time was worth more than a dollar.”


	2. 2: The Soccer Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Having no self-control? It's more likely than you think. I was going to try and give it a few days before uploading the next chapter, but I already have the first five written so ehhhh. Hope you guys like it. None of this is beta-ed so any mistakes are all my dumbass fault. =P

Sweat collected on Ingrid’s brow as she dribbled the ball down the field. Felix was right on her tail and both Ferdinand and Dimitri were coming at her from the front. Ingrid feigned going left, switching the position of her feet at the last moment and easily getting by Dimitri. Ferdinand was still doing a good job of defending her path to the goal and Felix was faster than her and making headway to catch up behind her. Ingrid looked for an opening. Petra was too far back, but Leonie had kept pace with her. The boys were so focused on Ingrid’s possession of the ball that they failed to notice the redhead. Ingrid passed. Leonie lined up her shot and struck. The ball arced to the left. Claude dove for the ball and it just barely sailed through his fingers and sunk into the corner of the net. 

“Goalllllllll!” Leonie shouted as she ran in victory circles around the boys and Ingrid as the four players caught their breaths. 

“You are having a powerful strike Leonie. I am proud to be having you as my teammate.” Petra said with a gentle smile as she caught up to the rest of the group. 

Claude made his way over to the other players and motioned for the goalie on the other end of the field to do the same as everyone headed to the bleachers. 

Garreg Mach U was a prestigious university located in central North Carolina. They were well known for their academics, but were known even more so for their division one soccer teams. Both the men’s and women’s teams were ranked some of the best in the entire country. Ingrid, Dimitri, Felix, and Sylvain all met playing pee-wee soccer for a unisex league back home in Kansas City, Missouri. They went to all of the same schools and kept playing soccer throughout. Sylvain mostly played to keep up with his friends, but the other three really had a knack for it. They lived and breathed soccer. It was no shock when all three of them were recruited by multiple division one universities. Garreg Mach just happened to be the only one to recruit all three, though due to family obligations, Dimitri would have been expected to attend even if they didn’t. Sylvain, of course, had the grades and money to get accepted as well. Though his father threw a fit about him going to an Ivy adjacent school instead of a  _ real  _ Ivy league. 

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I let you guys convince me to scrimmage before I’m actually forced to play when practice starts back up. This is too much work,” the newest arrival grumbled as she took a spot on the bleachers. 

“Some of us actually want to keep our skills sharp year round Hilda,” Ingrid fired back as she eyed the pink haired girl. 

Only Hilda could pull off cotton candy pink hair pulled back into pigtails and still manage to look her age. Despite appearances and her penchant for complaining and shirking work, Hilda was an incredibly skilled goalie. Sure, she’d fight you about practice all day, but get that girl on the field and she was almost impossible to score on.

“And some of us actually enjoy the few weeks off we get;” Hilda said, “Ew, I think I broke a nail.”

“Anyways,” Dimitri cut in trying to change the subject and focusing his attention on Ingrid, “Are you going to tell us what Sylvain did to put five dollars in the AIJ?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Claude asked. 

“The “Annoy Ingrid jar”,” Felix explained, “It was Dimitri’s idea when we first moved in together. None of us besides him were used to living with a girl, so he thought it would help alleviate some of us being gross. Any time any one of us does something to piss off Ingrid, we put a dollar in the jar. Sylvain felt the need to put five in there yesterday.”

“Ohhhhh, gossip. Dish girl,” Hilda butt in. 

“Oh my gosh, fineee. Sylvain may have gone on a very long winded, and very misguided, rant explaining why he thinks I’m a lesbian,” Ingrid said with a huff. 

“Wait, you’re not?” Leonie asked with a furrowed brow. 

“What? No! Why would you think I’m a lesbian?!” Ingrid exclaimed. 

“I too was thinking that you were loving the ladies, Ingrid,” Petra said.

“No offense, but I’ve like, never seen you with a dude. Or like, talk about guys.” Hilda added.

“I slept with Claude sophomore year!” Ingrid defended. 

“Yeah, but you also didn’t have any interest in it ever happening again. I actually kind of liked you and  _ really _ wanted it to happen again. And I’ve been told that I’m an attentive lover,” Claude said, “You just didn’t really seem to be into me.”

“Can confirm Claude is an exceptional lay,” Hilda said nonchalantly from the side.

Claude huffed out a laugh, “Thank you for defending my honor, Hil.”

“Look just because I spend my time focusing on soccer and school doesn’t mean I’m gay. I’ll find time for romance when I’ve graduated summa cum laude and am playing for a professional team.”

“You weren’t so focused on your studies when you almost got a C in Professor Eisner’s class freshman year because you spent the whole time staring at the TA,” Felix said sardonically. 

“Noooo, not you too, Ingrid,” Leonie whined, “You had the hots for my sister too?”

“Everyone had a crush on Byleth!” Ingrid argued, “And girl crushes are perfectly natural!”

“Name one straight girl, besides you apparently, that had a crush on Byleth,” Felix challenged.

“I would also be interested in hearing this,” Petra said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Easy, Hilda,” Ingrid said smugly. 

“Oh honey,” Claude laughed, “Hilda’s not straight.”

“Hella Bi,” the pink haired woman said as she sat on the bench painting her nails. 

“Since when?” Ingrid asked. 

“She’s been dating Marianne for like seven months,” Leonie said. 

“Seven months and thirteen days thank you very much,” Hilda said with a smile, “Plus I totally fucked Edelgard freshman year.”

“You slept with my sister?” Dimitri croaked, his face alarmingly red. 

“Isn’t she your step-sister?” Hilda asked with an innocent expression. 

“Our parents got married when we were six. Mom, El, and Addy all moved in with us. Blood doesn’t mean anything. They’re my sisters.”

“But doesn’t she have like, ten siblings or something?” Hilda asked with wide eyes in a successful attempt to change the subject, “Why did only the two of them move in with you?” Claude choked on a laugh in the background. 

“Mom only gave birth to El and Addy. The rest of them had a mix of different mothers. Ionius was a bit of a…” Dimitri trailed off in an attempt to find a polite description. 

“A bit of a manwhore,” Claude interjected. 

“Well, I was going to say philanderer,” Dimitri said with a sheepish grin.

“That’s just a fancy way of saying manwhore,” Hilda said with a laugh. Claude high fived the hand she had finished painting. 

“Anyways, speaking of El,” Dimitri interjected, “Everyone is coming to the beach house this weekend for her 21st birthday, right?”

“Yes we’re all coming to celebrate her majesty, don’t worry.” Hilda answered 

“You know she hates when you call her that.” Dimitri said. 

“I knowww,” Hilda responded with an easy grin, “That’s why it’s such a fun nickname.”

“We are getting off of the subject,” Petra said in an attempt to wrangle everyone back on topic. 

Ingrid placed her head in her hands. She had been perfectly content to let the group follow down the conversation rabbit hole and leave her be. Unfortunately she wasn’t so lucky. 

“Well I was going to say Marianne, but I guess that’s not accurate,” Ingrid grumbled.

Off to the side Hilda opened her mouth to say something before Leonie cut her off, “Hilda for the love of God do not say whatever it is you were about to say about my best friend, thank you.”

“Oh Annette!” Ingrid shouted with pride.

“She’s actually Pan, Ing,” Felix said, “Good try though.”

“Exactly how bad is my gaydar?” Ingrid asked, “Are any of the girls in our group straight?” 

“I am,” Leonie stated, “So are Lysithea and Bernie. I’m not sure about Hapi. I’ve never asked and I don’t want to assume. I think Anna is. Oh! And Flayn.”

“Well, none of them had Professor Eisner for English Comp so I guess I have no other examples.” Ingrid said with a sigh. 

Ferdinand, who had remained quiet for the conversation finally spoke up, “I for one think if Ingrid says she’s straight then she’s straight. She is the only one that could truly know.”

Ingrid shot Ferdinand an appreciative smile. The ginger haired man was usually the first one to jump into conversations, but she was glad that he had refrained until that moment to offer his support. He may appear to just be another rich and arrogant trust fund baby, but underneath she saw that he had a heart of gold and was an incredibly loyal friend. 

“We all love you no matter what, Ingrid,” Dimitri said. 

“We just wanted you to feel comfortable,” Felix added.

“Like half of our group is somewhere on the LGBT spectrum,” Leonie said, “So it’s really okay if you are too. No one will judge you.”

“I mean, you already have two very lovely ladies competing for you anyways,” Claude said conspiratorially. 

Ingrid stopped to give him a confused stare, “No girls are into me Claude. No guys either for that matter.”

“Holy shit,” Hilda said, “Not only are you clearly super repressed, but you’re also hella oblivious. I’m going to break this down for you. Dorothea has been flirting with you for at least a whole semester, if not longer. Mercie has been trying to get your attention on and off since her and Dima broke up. And Ignatz has, like, been in love with you since freshman year. Plus you totally didn’t even realize that my boy Claude here was crushing on you back in sophomore year and y’all banged. So like, you’re the last person to be able to point out when people are into you. Hell, I even thought you were cute once upon a time, but even I’m not reckless enough to go after a teammate.”

Ingrid just stared at nothing for a solid minute with her eyes wide, “No. Just no. Dorothea flirts with everyone. Mercie is just super nice and people think she’s flirting. It’s why she’s always turning everyone down. Ignatz... Actually in retrospect that one makes a lot of sense. Claude, I’m sorry I didn’t realize that your feelings ran deeper than a one night stand. I guess I made assumptions based off of your reputation and I’m sorry for that.”

“Eh, water under the bridge. Moved on forever ago,” Claude stated good-naturedly with a wave of his hand. 

“Ingrid, as someone that used to share love with Dorothea, there is much difference in her flirting when she is having feelings for someone,” Petra said. 

“As someone who also courted the wonderful Dorothea,” Ferdinand added, “I think Petra has a point.”

“Yeah, and Mercedes is definitely into you, Ing,” Dimitri mumbled with an embarrassed grimace, “She asked me a few months back if I’d be okay with her pursuing you.”

“I think,” Ingrid sighed, “I think I’m going to sit down now.”

“There there,” Hilda said while patting Ingrid’s head as she took a seat next to her. 

“There are worse things than to have beautiful women vying for your attention,” Ferdinand said encouragingly. 

“This is my life,” Ingrid said mostly to herself, “This is my life now.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Leonie said, “If you are straight I’m completely happy to have another tomboy on the team that’s breaking stereotypes, but you know, if you aren’t, you’ve totally got a kickass group of wingmen...wingwomen...wingpeople at your side. Minus Sylvain. Do not ever take relationship advice from Sylvain. Raphael and I almost never happened because Sylvain gave him some absolutely terrible pick up lines to use on me.”

“Good talk everyone,” Ingrid said in a trance, “I’m going to go shower now.”

“We are being supporting,” Petra shouted after Ingrid before correcting herself, “We are supporting you Ingrid.”


	3. 3: Annette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just want to let you know there's some not so happy religious talk in this one in case that's an issue for anyone. I don't think it's anything too terrible, but definitely want to make sure everyone stays safe. Also, Annette is a lovely friend. That is all.

Every other Wednesday Ingrid had a standing coffee date with Annette and Mercedes. There was a little cafe not far from campus that Annette swore had the best caramel macchiato. Ingrid was quite partial to their chai latte. Though it was a place she never would have seen becoming such a constant in her life, Ingrid had to admit that she enjoyed the ambiance. The back wall was lined with pieces all procured from local artists. Indie folk played low enough on the cafe speakers as to not inhibit conversations between patrons. Ingrid could make out a Lord Huron song as she entered the front door and found herself humming along. One half of the shop was set up with tables and chairs. The other half had a couple old couches and well worn comfy chairs. A few bookshelves were scattered about with a collection of secondhand books. While most of the students from Garreg Mach liked to congregate in the library or the Starbucks on campus to study, Ingrid had found that this was her favorite spot to relax or get work done. 

“Ingrid, over here,” Annette called her over as Ingrid was picking up her order. The redhead had managed to grab one of the smaller couches. 

“Hey Annie, how have you been?” Ingrid asked her friend with an easygoing smile, “Is Mercedes running late?”

“Nah, Mercie can’t make it today. Something came up with Emile, which I’m sure she’ll tell us all about later. She said she’s still definitely going to make it to the beach house this weekend though.”

Ingrid let out a sigh of relief. She loved her friends, but with what she had learned the day prior she wasn’t quite sure how she could handle being around Mercedes. Annette studied her blonde friend’s face. 

“Ingrid, are you upset with Mercie or something. You almost perked up when I said she wasn’t coming.”

“What? No of course not. Mercie is an angel. I don’t think anyone could ever be mad at her.”

Ingrid’s face flushed and she couldn’t quite meet her friend’s eyes. 

“Okay, no. Something is up. Spill.”

“Annie, nothing is wrong. I’m not mad at Mercedes. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Dima just said something yesterday and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it is all.”

“He had no right,” Annette growled. 

Ingrid was taken aback. In the years she had known her redheaded friend she had never seen her anything but upbeat and cheery. There were a few occasions where she had been down, mostly concerning her father or the occasional disagreement with Felix, but she’d never seen her look so menacing.

“It’s okay, really. Nothing has changed about how I see Mercie. She’s still a dear friend.”

“It’s not okay. You were never supposed to know. That was Mercie’s secret to tell. Not Dimitri’s. God help me I am about to break so many best friend codes right now, but I need you to understand some things. And that means everything I tell you stays with you. I know I have the reputation of a blabbermouth but the things told to me in confidence stay in confidence. So I need you to pinky promise.”

“Annette, I’m not going to say anything.”

“Pinky promise, Ingrid. It’s a sacred bond. Like an Unbreakable Vow. You break it. I murder you and Felix adores me enough to help me hide the body. Best friend or not.”

“Okay nerd. I pinky promise.”

With that both women linked their pinkies and shook on it. 

“The fact that you got my reference makes you just as much of a nerd,” Annette joked. 

Ingrid rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. That was the easy going Annette that she had grown to adore. There was just something about the petite redhead that made you want to be her friend. She was also the only person that could turn broody Felix into complete mush. Her friend was so soft for that woman. Ingrid had no doubt that if she ever were to cross the redhead, her best friend would not have any issues helping his girlfriend hide her body. The thought brought on an easy grin. Ingrid motioned for Annette to start talking with a wave of her hand. 

“So, um, Mercie has liked you a lot longer than anyone really knows,” Annette started, “Oh no, I feel like such a bad friend right now. I’m completely betraying her trust.”

“Annie, calm down. You’re not. Dima is the one that told me, not you. You’re just clarifying things. How long has she, um, liked me?” Ingrid’s face flushed. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. This was completely new territory for her. The last person she had thought to be romantically inclined towards her was Ashe and he turned out to be gay.   
  


“Freshman orientation long…” Annette trailed off before shifting her gaze away from Ingrid. 

“What?! She dated Dima for almost a year! And she had that thing with Byleth last summer.”

“Ingrid, she did genuinely care about Dimitri. And Byleth was just a friends with benefits thing because they’re both too busy pining after someone else.”

“Oh my God,” Ingrid cut in with amusement, “Who is  _ Byleth _ pining after? Is it someone we know?”

“Ugh, it’s someone she won’t make a move on because she TA-ed for them once and since she’s now working on her PhD and technically a junior professor she thinks it’s inappropriate. Which makes absolutely no sense since the TA thing was our freshman year English Comp class, and the classes she teaches in no way overlap with this person’s major. There is no crossover at all. There’s no ethical dilemma. She’s just being ridiculous.”

“Wait, it’s someone that was in our Comp class freshman year?”

Annette squeaked, her face looked positively aghast. 

“Ingrid, no. Do not. You know I can’t keep secrets to save my life and I’m not even supposed to know this one. I found out from Claude who found out from Hilda who found from a drunk Leonie who doesn’t even remember saying anything about it. I’m pretty sure Mercie knows too, but it’s Mercie and she’s too kind to ever tell a soul.”

“Fine fine. I was just curious is all. I mean, it’s someone from our group. Someone specifically that took that class…” Ingrid trailed off. 

“You are not a gossip. Do not start now. You’re just trying to avoid the actual subject!”

Ingrid could not argue her friend’s point. She was far more comfortable when she was not the subject of conversation, a thing that had been occurring far too much for her liking this week.

“I know, okay? I just don’t know what to do or how to handle this. Mercedes is one of my closest friends and I absolutely adore her. I just don’t want to hurt her. Especially if she’s really had feelings for me all this time.”

“She thought you were straight for, like, ever. So she didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and worked on moving on. But then you met Dorothea last year and she saw how you are with her and Mercie finally realized what a raging lesbian you are and decided she had a chance and I have spent all this time trying to convince her otherwise.”

It was at that moment Ingrid had taken a sip of her drink; she coughed as the warm liquid went down the wrong pipe. 

“I’m sorry, what?!” Ingrid responded with her voice hoarse, “Annette, I am straight. How many times do I have to have this conversation this week?”

“Ingrid, sweetie, darling, friend of mine, you look at Dorothea like she hung the moon in the sky. Any time she’s around you’re constantly attached to her hip and you’re not touchy with anyone besides maybe Sylvain and that is basically fraternal.”

“She’s a touchy person and never makes me feel uncomfortable about it. There’s nothing wrong with showing affection with friends.” Ingrid bristled. 

“Yeah, and if she were the only one constantly all over you I’d give you that one. You sit on her lap. You hold hands. You hold  _ her _ .”

“Friends can do those things!” Ingrid said defiantly. 

“Sweetie, name one other friend you do that with.”

“Sylvain!”

“That is a fair point. You’ve also known him since you were like toddlers. He’s made so many jokes about how your parents used to bathe you together. The only reason you aren’t like that with Felix and Dimitri too is because they’re both uptight about physical affection outside of relationships. Which is some bullshit toxic masculinity by the way. I’m working on it with Felix.”

“Is that why he has randomly started giving me hugs sometimes?”

“Probably,” Annette replied with a giggle, “But case in point. Those guys are all practically your family. They’re like your brothers. So name one friend other than them that you’re comfortable showing physical affection with. Because I can’t think of any. Not even Edelgard and you’ve known her almost as long as the guys. Actually, you know what? Is it just a midwestern thing? Or like a Catholic thing? Because Edelgard is weird about it too. You’re all so repressed.”

“Thanks Annie,” Ingrid responded gruffly with a roll of her eyes, “And I accept Mercie’s affection.”

“Yeah, because saying no to her is like kicking a puppy. You never initiate it with anyone but Dorothea. And I guess Sylvain who is your best friend. So I will slightly, only slightly, concede to your point on that one.”

“Oh so gracious of you.”

“No need to be a brat. I have other points. I have witnessed you spend an outrageous amount of time staring at Dorothea’s cleavage.”

“I do not! I have noticed her boobs a healthy amount. It’s boob envy. Boob envy is normal.”

“Yeah, it’s not boob envy when you’re staring at them like you want them in your mouth.”

“Annette!” Ingrid screeched, her voice high pitched in embarrassment, “That was almost as bad as something Sylvain would say!” The redhead just laughed and raised her hands in surrender. 

“Just calling it how I see it.”

Annette took a moment to collect herself before sighing, “Look, the whole point of this conversation is that Mercie is finally listening to me, okay? I don’t want to see her get hurt and I know you don’t want to see her hurt either. She knows how you feel about Dorothea, whether you see it or not, and she is actively trying to get over you. So you need to pretend like you don’t know. Don’t treat her any differently, no kid gloves. She’s a big girl. She can handle her own feelings. She doesn’t want anything to change, okay? So just continue to be her friend.”

“I was never going to stop being her friend. Mercie is probably the best person I know. She’s too good for all of us really. And thank you for this talk. Thank you for working through this with me. Mercedes deserves nothing less than the absolute best from me as a friend.”

“And I have no doubt you will continue to be the kind of friend she needs.”

“And for the record. I don’t feel any kind of way about Dorothea beyond friendship.”

“Ingrid, I get it. You already know that Mercie and I grew up together in a small town just outside of Birmingham. We were both raised in a Southern Baptist church, and boy if you think Catholic guilt is bad I have some news for you about the Southern Baptists. Our parents were close friends and incredibly devout. Mercie’s adoptive father was the pastor at our church; still is. My dad is a deacon there. He refused to talk to me for months after I came out as Pan. He told me I was just confused and would find a nice Christian boy. I just happened to find and fall for Felix freshman year because he caught me singing my lunchtime song and for some reason thought it was cute. Dad’s only gripe with him is that he’s Catholic. So my dad just completely ignores my sexuality because I ended up with a guy. He pretends that it was just a phase and not part of who I am regardless of the gender of my partner. Mercie wasn’t so lucky. She got caught with another girl in her room senior year of high school and her adoptive father kicked her out. Gave her thirty minutes to pack as much as she could. I tried to convince my dad to let her stay with us, but he didn’t want her “corrupting me” even though I had already come out. She spent the last three months of senior year in a halfway house for homeless teens. So I know everyone has been pushing you this week; I know that you may not be ready yet and that’s fine. Stay in the closet for as long as you need. But when you’re ready we’ll all be here. We love you and have your back. And at the very least, Mercie and I understand where you’re coming from with the religious parents.”

Ingrid sat in silence, her shoulders slumped forward. The lump in her throat made it hard to swallow and there was a persistent sting in her eyes. She would not allow herself to cry in public. 

“I’m not gay, Annie, I can’t be gay.”

“Okay, no this coffee date was not supposed to make you sad!” Annette stated frantically, “Okay, okay. I cave I’ll tell you all about Byleth’s gay disaster crush! Oh! And I completely forgot to tell you I love the new haircut. It suits you. Very chic.”

Ingrid looked up and gave a watery chuckle. No one could ever be sad for long with Annette around.


	4. 4: Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, don't have a beta so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Also, spellcheck. Fuck that guy. Mercedes and Dorothea are both finally introduced. We're getting closer to the beach guys.

If looks could kill, Sylvain Jose Gautier would be a dead man thrice over. Up until that morning Ingrid had been under the impression that she was making the three hour drive with the boys and Annette in Dima’s SUV. It was five AM on Friday morning and the boys were packing up Dimitri’s dark blue Audi Q7 for the drive to his family beach house in Emerald Isle. Sometimes Ingrid forgot how stupidly wealthy some of her friend group was. Cars were like a status symbol to them. Dimitri with his Audi. Sylvain with his Porsche. Felix with his BMW. She felt lucky that she even had her beat up 2007 Corolla to get around. Ingrid stood on the sidewalk with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She had chosen to wear comfortable clothes for the drive, dressed in a pair of flip flops, athletic shorts, and a muscle tank with the sides cut low enough to tease the toned muscles from the intense training that came with playing soccer. 

A few feet away from the boys stood Annette and Mercedes who appeared to be animatedly chatting about something. Mercedes threw her head back and laughed at something her redheaded friend had said and Ingrid was momentarily awestruck by how beautiful her friend truly was. Her cheeks flushed as her champagne blonde friend caught her gaze and flashed a bright smile her way. Ingrid failed to notice the subtle appraising gaze shot her way as Mercedes made her way over to where the soccer player was standing. 

“Good morning Ingrid,” Mercedes greeted, her voice as soothing and bright as ever, “I wanted to apologize for stealing your seat in Dima’s car. Sylvain assured me that there was plenty of room; I didn’t know that meant pushing you out.”

“It’s okay Mercie, truly,” Ingrid said while giving the other woman a reassuring smile, “Edelgard had room for me and we’re all going to the same place. Though I really wish Sylvain hadn’t waited to inform me right before we were about to leave.”

The taller woman gave Ingrid an easy grin, one that was wholly characteristic of the woman’s gentle nature. She lifted her hand and let her fingers play with the strands of hair resting at the nape of Ingrid’s neck. 

“Your hair is lovely, by the way. You look so handsome like this.”

To Ingrid, it felt as though all of the blood in her body collected in her face. She’d never been called handsome before and it did something to her in a way that being called beautiful never had. Just as quickly as Mercedes had reached out her hand she pulled it away. 

“Oh dear, I’m sorry Ingrid. That wasn’t very appropriate of me.” 

Ingrid’s brow furrowed as she took in her friend’s bashful expression. Mercedes appeared as though she was silently chastising herself. 

As if on cue, a cherry red Lexus LS pulled up and parked next to Dimitri’s vehicle. Ingrid recognized it immediately as Edelgard’s new car. A gift from her parent’s that she had excitedly posted to all of her social media platforms. Ingrid let out a chuckle as she recalled the instagram photo El had posted the day before. Edelgard and Hubert were both leaning back against the hood of the car, both wearing aviators and with arms crossed over their torsos. The caption had read ‘New whip, who dis?’. For two people who attempted to carry themselves as stoic and intimidating, they really could be some of the biggest dorks in their friend group. 

Ingrid still wasn’t sure who all was riding with Edelgard. Hubert was a given. She would’ve guessed Ferdinand, but she knew he volunteered to drive his own car. Lysithea, Petra, and Bernie were all good guesses. She really shouldn’t have been surprised when the passenger side back door opened and Dorothea stepped out. It made sense. Ingrid had met Dorothea through Edelgard, the two having become fast friends through a shared elective the second semester of freshman year. Though Ingrid doesn’t know what elective could have brought a pre-law and musical theatre major together. It just happened that Ingrid wouldn’t meet Dorothea for close to a year after that when she and the boys helped the brunette move in with Edelgard and Hubert. Sylvain volunteering her a spot in Dima’s car to Mercedes made much more sense. 

Ingrid could not take her eyes off of the songstress. She stretched her arms above her head causing the loose crop top she wore to rise even further up her abdomen and showed off the curve of her hips. Chestnut waves cascaded over her shoulders. Ingrid’s gaze travelled up long toned legs to the shortest shorts she had ever seen. Her mouth felt suddenly dry. She wondered if the boys would mind if she stole a bottle of water from the cooler. As if the universe was mocking her, Ingrid felt a tap on her shoulder. 

“Here you go, Ing,” Sylvain said with a cocky grin as he passed her some water, “You were looking a little thirsty.” 

Ingrid corrected her thought from earlier that morning. If looks could kill, Sylvain would be dead four times over. She snatched the water from his hand and greedily guzzled half of the bottle. 

“You’re a dick,” Ingrid hissed low enough for only him to hear, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

Sylvain adopted a look of faux innocence with eyebrows raised and bottom lip puffed out. 

“Why Ingrid I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re insinuating. I just didn’t want my dear best friend to pass out from dehydration before we could even get the weekend started.”

Merecedes flitted her eyes back and forth between the childhood friends before coming to Ingrid’s aid, “Sylvain, stop being a pest and apologise for whatever you did to Ingrid.”

Sylvain looked properly chastised. Mercedes had that effect on people. 

“Sorry Ingrid,” the redhead mumbled looking like a kicked puppy.

“Good. Now go finish helping load up the car. We have to leave soon,” Mercedes ordered before turning to the blonde, “I’ll see you later, Ingrid.”

With her two friend’s gone, the soccer player made her way over to the Lexus to drop her duffel bag in the trunk. She turned around only to find Dorothea standing almost entirely too close. The other woman gave her a dazzling smile. 

“Good morning, my lovely Ingrid,” the songstress said, “I love the new haircut. You’re looking every bit the dashing knight from one of those stories you love so much.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Ingrid said bashfully, “You look great too. I mean you always do. Look great that is…”

Ingrid heard someone make an unsuccessful attempt to cough in order to conceal a laugh. She shifted her eyes towards the direction it came from to see Edelgard leaning against the driver’s door with a smirk on her lips and an eyebrow raised. 

“If you two are quite done with whatever that was we need to hit the road.” 

“Of course Edie, don’t want to hold up the birthday girl's weekend. After you, my dear Ingrid, you’re the smallest so you have the middle seat.”

“Technically El’s the smallest,” Ingrid grumbled under her breath. 

“I heard that,” Edelgard said with a huff, “And I’m driving, so the middle seat is for you.”

Ingrid climbed into the back seat and was genuinely surprised to see Hubert sat on the left hand side. She had expected him to be up front with Edelgard. The soccer player drew her gaze in that direction and was equally surprised to see a mess of familiar teal hair. 

“Good morning, Ingrid,” Byleth greeted with her usual monotone voice, though her lips contained a genuine smile that lit up her features. 

Ingrid responded in kind, her raised eyebrows belying her attempt to hide her shock. Sure, after the older woman had no longer been their TA she had been integrated into the group somewhat. Leonie was her sister after all, and Ingrid knew she had struck up particularly close friendships with Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri; she was also a regular at Sylvain’s monthly poker night, and spent a lot of time volunteering with Mercedes. Byleth had even managed to gain Hubert’s begrudging respect after successfully obtaining them a win at his favorite pub’s trivia night. She became his go-to trivia partner whenever Edelgard wasn’t available. Ingrid would dare say he even considered the junior professor to be a friend, a feat that is not easily obtained. She supposed Byleth’s presence wasn’t as much of a surprise as she had initially thought. 

Ten minutes into the drive and Hubert was already asleep, head resting on a pillow pressed up against the window. Edelgard and Byleth were passionately debating the merits of earl grey versus oolong tea. Dorothea seemed to be intensely studying some sort of script. Ingrid sighed and pressed back into her headrest. She tried not to be bummed about not riding with the boys. She was sure Sylvain was being his normal instigating self and trying to rile Dimitri and Felix into a debate about whether Messi or Ronaldo was the better soccer player, or Dimitri’s promotion to team captain, which was still a sore spot for Felix who had been vying for the spot himself. And without Ingrid there to reign them in it was likely to continue the whole drive. She felt bad for Annette and Mercedes for having to deal with it, almost as bad as she felt for not being there to referee the boys. 

One minute Ingrid was putting in her bluetooth headphones and listening to The Paper Kites newest album and the next someone was shaking her awake. She was instantly aware that she was pressed against something soft and warm, her head seemed to be tucked into the crook of someone’s neck. 

“Wake up, Ingrid,” she heard the voice of Dorothea whisper. It held a musical quality to it as if coming from a dream. 

Ingrid instantly shot up, her face hot as she put two and two together. Sometime during the ride she had fallen asleep and taken to using Dorothea as her own personal pillow. 

She cleared her throat, “Are we there already?”

“No, Edie just pulled over to a rest stop to get some coffee and stretch her legs. Hubie went with her. I was going to run to the restroom if you needed to go as well.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for waking me, Thea.”

The songstress nodded and shot her one last look before exiting Edelgard's car. 

Ingrid tossed her head back and groaned once the brunette was a safe distance from the vehicle. 

“So you and Dorothea, huh?” Byleth asked from the front seat startling Ingrid. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone in the car. 

“Me and Dorothea what?” Ingrid responded halfheartedly. She was getting a little too used to this conversation by now. 

“You should tell her how you feel.”

“Are you going to finally tell El that you’re in love with her then?” Ingrid shot back. 

Byleth almost looked impressed, “Touche. I guess this is more of a do as I say and not as I do speech. Just don’t hurt her. She’s crazy about you, you know? Not that she’d ever let it show beyond the confident facade she puts on. She’s more self-conscious than you know. She cares so much. About everything and everyone.”

“I’m not… I don’t… ughhh,” Ingrid grunted. 

“It’s okay to not know exactly who you are or what you want, but Ingrid, I think you know. I think you’ve probably known for a while now,” Byleth said with a neutral expression, but with eyes that somehow conveyed a wisdom far beyond her years, “Just think about it.”

“That’s the problem. It’s  _ all  _ I’ve been able to think about the last few days.”

Both of the women noticed their other three travel companions making their way back to the car and ended the conversation there. 

“Ingrid,” Dorothea sing-songed as she entered the seat next to her, “They had that weird bison jerky you like.” The other woman dangled the package in front of her before tossing it into the soccer player’s lap.

Ingrid’s frustrated expression from moments before melted away into softness. Dorothea’s face was close enough that she could see the way her emerald eyes almost glittered in the sunlight and the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled in a way Ingrid realized was reserved just for her. 

“Thank you, Dorothea,” Ingrid murmured with a gentle smile. Dorothea beamed back at her and linked her arm with Ingrids. 

“Is it okay if I rest my eyes for a bit?” The songstress asked with fluttering eyelashes. 

“No, of course,” Ingrid said, “It’s only fair I return the favor.”

Dorothea wasted no time in resting her head on Ingrid’s shoulder. The soccer player ignored the amused look Edelgard shot her way through the rear-view mirror.


	5. 5A: The Beach House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this was definitely supposed to just be a simple 5 and 1, but this has definitely gotten away from me, lol. So now we have a couple filler chapters. Which I mean on the plus side means more chapters. And gives our poor Ingrid a bit of a break from the serious talks. Hope you guys enjoy.

Despite being friends with Dimitri and Edelgard for almost her entire life, this was the first time Ingrid had been to their family beach house in Emerald Isle. Garreg Mach had always been the goal for the step-siblings as it had been both of their parents’ Alma Mater, so the vacation home had been seen as an investment. The house itself was almost as massive as the one they grew up in back home. It was also located along the second row of houses to the beach. All in all they were maybe a two minute walk away from it. The beach house stood two stories tall, the outside finished with wood panelling that was painted a rich almost navy blue, the trimmings coated in a pristine white. Edelgard had mentioned on the ride that the house was almost 5,000 square feet and contained six bedrooms and six and a half bathrooms. With twenty friends crashing at the place for the weekend the majority would be split between remaining three bedrooms and the Great Room. Dimitri and Edelgard would, of course, be staying in their own bedrooms, and their parents’ room was off limits. 

They had somehow managed to be the first group to arrive. Edelgard pulled her vehicle into the two car garage leaving plenty of room for Dimitri’s SUV. The five friends piled out of the Lexus and Ingrid took the time to stretch her arms up in the air to relieve the tension in her back. She bent forward to touch her toes, holding the position for thirty seconds. Being an athlete had its perks as she knew the best stretches to get rid of any lingering discomfort in her body from being cooped in the car for three hours. Ingrid turned around to find Dorothea avert her eyes, a light tinge of pink on the other woman's cheeks. 

“Do you need any help with your bags?” Ingrid asked Dorothea after she had already draped her own duffle bag over her shoulder. The brunette seemed to be struggling to carry both her bags into the house. 

“Oh no, I’ve got it. Thank you though.” Dorothea gave Ingrid a polite smile as she tried, unsuccessfully, to heft her second bag into her arms. 

“Dorothea, seriously, it’s no problem. Here.” The soccer player proceeded to place the bigger of the two bags on her other shoulder with relative ease, her deltoid muscles flexing with the movement. 

“What no help with my bags?” Edelgard cut in haughtily, “It is my birthday weekend after all.”

The smirk the shorter woman threw in her direction gave away that she was teasing her friend. In all honesty Edelgard was freakishly strong despite her small stature. While her step-brother and their friends took to soccer like fish to water, Edelgard had no desire to play the sport herself. Instead she threw herself into fencing, archery, horseback riding, and strangely enough ax throwing. She was proficient in all of it, like some noble from the times of old; all of which required an immense amount of discipline and strength. It was actually through horseback riding that she had met Hubert. His family owned the stables in which she took her lessons and kept her horse Aymr. He was a year older than the rest of them and had a prickly personality, but they all had to respect the way he doted on and looked after a tiny El. As they got older, the two bonded over a love of art, literature, and similar views on social issues. Edelgard had been devastated when her best friend left for Garreg Mach a good year before the rest of them. 

“Please,” Ingrid scoffed, “You could probably carry  _ all  _ of our bags without breaking a sweat.”

“I can carry your bags, El,” Byleth shyly offered. The teal haired woman grabbed the bags before Edelgard could argue. 

“Which way is your room?” She asked as she entered the door to the beach house. Ingrid couldn’t help but feel endeared as she watched her childhood friend try to hide her smile and flushed cheeks behind the palm of her hand.

Hubert chuckled beside her as the two made their way inside. Somehow the man’s laugh always managed to sound slightly menacing. Ingrid was used to it and just accepted it as one of the dark haired man’s quirks. 

“Ten dollars they finally break and end up together by the end of the weekend,” he said as he quirked the eyebrow not covered by the fringe of his hair. He wore it much shorter than the tragic haircut he had in highschool. 

“Twenty that El gets frustrated by Byleth’s lack of action and makes the first move,” Ingrid throws back at him. 

A giggle erupted next to them, “That’s not a fair bet. Byleth’s too much of a bottom to make the first move. I say we bet on how long it takes Edie to break and pounce on our dear junior professor. My money is by the end of tonight. The bonfire is sure to set the mood.”

“How do you even know Byleth is a bottom?” Ingrid asked incredulously.

“Oh my dear sweet summer child, you’ll learn the ways of the world soon enough. It’s quite obvious.”

“How is it obvious? And don’t think I didn’t notice your Game of Thrones reference!”

“Everyone watched Game of Thrones, it’s not just nerd culture anymore!”

Hubert sat back quietly and watched the exchange between the two women. If he played his cards right he could rake in some more money on the two women in front of him. 

“Whatever, you still didn’t tell me how you can tell Byleth is a bottom.”

“It’s all in the energy. Same way I know  _ you’re  _ a bottom,” Dorothea teased with a shit-eating grin. 

Ingrid squawked, “I am  _ not  _ a bottom!”

“Only one way to find out,” Dorothea said, lowering her voice seductively as she ran a hand along the blonde’s bare shoulder. Ingrid struggled to contain the whine that almost escaped her throat. 

“Ladies, as enlightening as this all is,” Hubert interrupted blandly with a wave of his hand, “The bet.”

“You know what, you’re on,” Ingrid challenged, “But my money's on the party tomorrow night. Alcohol will be flowing. Tensions high. She’s sure to snap then.”

“I raise the bet to fifty dollars. Ingrid, I believe, has the timing right, but it’s going to be the professor that makes the first move,” Hubert countered with a smarmy grin. 

“Deal, easiest money I’ll ever make,” Dorothea replied. 

“Oh, you are both so on.” 

“Right, now that that’s settled, I say we take advantage of being the first one’s here and claim the good rooms. I do  _ not  _ want to get stuck piled up with everyone in the Great Room. I’m not dealing with Ferdie’s snoring,” Dorothea said. 

“Oh it’s not that bad, honestly,” Hubert said, feeling the need to defend the other man. 

“He sounds like a lawnmower with a loose blade,” Dorothea stated firmly, “Honestly, I don’t know how you and Bernie deal with it.”

“We deal just fine. And who says we’re going to get stuck with everyone else. I can claim a room for the three of us.”

With that the three entered the main portion of the house. It was absolutely beautifully designed. The walls were painted a light gray to match the wooden floors that were stained a slightly darker gray. Ingrid could see into the kitchen. The cabinets were country style and white; the countertops were a white marble with swirls of light gray. It was all pulled together with the slate colored subway tile backsplash and island in the center of the kitchen with four stools set up on the outside end of the island from the kitchen. The living room had a long dark gray suede couch centered perfectly in front of one of the largest flat screen tvs Ingrid had ever seen that was mounted on the wall. Two aqua armchairs were angled inwards on either side of the couch to add a splash of color. The same color as the throw pillows placed perfectly equidistant from each other on the couch. Whoever Dimitri and Edelgard’s parents hired to furnish the beach house certainly had a sophisticated eye for interior design. 

The rest of the house mirrored the same tasteful design and color scheme. Of the three rooms to choose from, two of them were set up fairly similar. Both contained a queen sized bed centered on the back wall with a nightstand on either side. On the opposite wall was a modestly sized dresser with a decent tv placed on top. Both rooms contained their own private bathrooms and had walk-in closets. The third bedroom was set up slightly different. Instead of a single bed, the room contained two bunk beds set up catty corner from each other. It also had a dresser and tv setup, but unlike the other rooms it did not have it’s own bathroom. 

Dorothea and Hubert were quick to grab the rooms with the single beds. Hubert no doubt wanted the privacy to share the room with his partners. Dorothea just didn’t want to have to share a bathroom with a whole mess of people. Ingrid dropped the brunette’s bag down in the room she had chosen and made her way to the room with the bunk beds. 

“Ingrid, what are you doing?” Dorothea asked, her voice slightly exasperated. 

“Uh, going to put my stuff down in the other room. I figured I could at the very least choose the bunk I want before everyone else gets here.”

“Ingrid, I don’t need a whole queen size bed to myself; there’s plenty of room. I promise I won’t bite,” she said cheekily with a wink, “Unless you ask of course.” 

“You know, you’re almost as bad as Sylvain.”

“Hey, hate to say it but the man gets results and is the only one that will match my banter.”

“Impossible. You’re both impossible.”

“Seriously though, stay with me. There’s no point in grabbing one of the bunk beds. Let the other’s fight over them. You got here early enough for the prime real estate. Live a little. Let yourself sample the lavish lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

“Fine, but you better not be a blanket hog.”

By the time everyone else arrived, everything erupted into total chaos as the remaining sleeping arrangements were decided. Dimitri’s group arrived second. It was decided that Felix and Annette would take one of the bottom bunks in the third room. Dimitri offered to let Sylvain crash in his room with him in order to allow Mercedes to grab one of the top bunks. They figured the second bottom bunk should be reserved for another couple. Claude’s group arrived next. Hilda challenged Leonie to an arm wrestling match to determine who got the last bottom bunk. While the two duked it out Claude took it upon himself to grab the other top bunk. Hilda beat Leonie by a landslide and won the remaining bunk for her and Marianne to share. Ferdinand arrived last as he had volunteered to pick up the food and alcohol supplies for the weekend. Since Hubert had already claimed a room from himself, Ferdinand, and Bernadetta, that left the remaining five guests to camp out in the Great Room. Petra and Lysithea both claimed a loveseat each, Raphael and Leonie grabbed the pullout couch, and Linhardt, who truly could fall asleep anywhere, resigned to sleep in one of the recliners in the corner of the room. 

With sleeping arrangements settled and everything unloaded and put away, the group of friends decided to check out the beach. It was still early enough to lounge around by the water for a while, as it had not yet reached noon.


	6. 5B: Day At the Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter. I promise our girl Ingrid gets put back on the spot next chapter. Finally caught up in terms of completed chapters, but am already about a third of the way through the next one so it should still be up by tomorrow night my time. Also, I have absolutely no excuses for the level of thirst in this chapter. Sorry about that, lol.

Ingrid had allowed Dorothea to take the bathroom to get changed for the beach. She figured the other woman would make much more use of the mirror than herself and if she ended up needing it she could just make her quick fixes after the songstress was done. The short haired blonde rifled through her bag to find her bathing suit and made haste in putting it on. It was a new one. She had allowed Annette and Mercedes drag her out shopping for the trip and both were adamant that she had to have it. It was a seafoam green two piece that complimented the color of her eyes. The bottoms were a pair of boyshorts, and the top was modest enough for her to feel comfortable in it. There was minimal cleavage shown and it was held up by two silk ribbon-like straps. Attached to the top were two off the shoulder short sleeves that still allowed her to show off her toned arms. Her favorite feature, however, was the little section up front that was laced in a criss-crossed pattern that stopped an inch or two before the start of her abs. She had to admit that the bathing suit made her feel confident. It showed off her best features and she had to admit she looked good. 

Ingrid ran a hand through her short locks as the bathroom door opened. She could only swear that Aphrodite herself stepped through the door. With wide eyes and jaw dropped to the floor, Ingrid choked on her own saliva as she attempted to breathe. Dorothea’s top allowed for maximum view of her ample chest. The sides of the top were a vibrant red to offset the black lace that made of the rest of the bathing suit top. Her bottoms were so tiny that Ingrid couldn’t even make them out under the matching black and red sarong that flowed down the brunette’s long legs. The sarong was tied in a bow on her right hip and left the entirety of her right leg was on display. To tie the look together was the wide brim black beach hat that sat atop her head and decorated with what appeared to be two faux red tropical flowers. The woman’s wavy brown hair hung loose down her back and over her shoulders. Ingrid thought she looked like she stepped off the pages of some glamour magazine doing their summer special. 

“Ingrid dear,” Dorothea said with a self-satisfied smirk, “You’re staring.”

“Hmm?” Ingrid half responded as she shook her head and averted her gaze. 

“Sorry Thea. You look really good. The, uh, that really fits nicely.”

Ingrid blanched at her own response. It never failed to amaze her just how inarticulate the other woman’s presence made her. 

“Well I guess I can’t really blame you for sneaking a peak, my dear Ingrid,” Dorothea teased with a wink, “I have to say you look rather ravishing yourself. The color matches your eyes.”

The last sentence was said almost demurely in contrast to the initial poking. Their eyes briefly locked and Ingrid could feel a tension coiling in her belly, could feel as her heart picked up pace and pounded against her ribcage. 

“So, the others are probably waiting for us.” She said in an effort to escape whatever was happening in that moment. It was too much. 

Dorothea cleared her throat, a pretty tint of pink on her cheeks, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to keep our dear friends waiting. Shall we?”

Ingrid had to hand it to the Blaiddyd/von Hresvelg family on their choice of summer vacation spot. Emerald Isle was quiet and didn’t appear to be a major tourist area. There were only a few hotels on the whole Isle; it seemed to be made up of mostly rental properties and privately owned beach homes. The beach itself was lovely. It was clean with cool, soft white sand and clear blue water. Ingrid had wanted to test out the temperature of the ocean and made it out to her knees; she could still see her feet underneath the water at that distance. It was hot outside, but not unbearably so and the humidity wasn’t too bad that day. The water was refreshing on her skin as she waded out further.

“Why hello there stranger,” she heard the familiar soft voice of Mercedes greet her as she closed the distance between them. 

“Mercie, hey.” They were about waist deep in the water as Ingrid whirled around to face her friend. 

Mercedes had her long champagne colored hair piled atop her head in a messy bun that still somehow managed to look perfect; like controlled chaos. She wore a relatively modest two piece bikini. It was a pale coral color with high waisted bottoms that rested just below her belly button and a top that showed just the swells of the tops of her breasts. Not that Ingrid was paying attention to that. Truly she thought her friend had found a bathing suit that fit her style. She wasn’t at all thinking about the contrast of the pale coral material against the smooth milky skin. 

“The water feels great. I’ve missed going to the beach. We used to take trips down to Florida every summer before my mother passed. There’s this beach on the gulf in Sarasota that we used to go to. It has the prettiest light blue water and somehow the sand was always cool to the touch no matter how hot it was. Emile and I used to spend hours building sand castles. Siesta Key, I think, was the name of it,” Mercedes paused momentarily lost in thought, “Oh no, just look at me, babbling on about nothing at all.”

“That sounds like a lovely, Mercie,” Ingrid said reassuringly, “It’s nice to hear you talk about fond memories. If you’d like maybe later we can try and build a sandcastle. I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, my beach experience is very limited.”

Mercedes' expression brightened immensely at the offer, “As long as it’s not a bother. It really does sound like fun.”

“Spending time with you is never a bother. You’re one of my closest friends.”

Ingrid and Mercedes spent a little more time relaxing in the water before the inevitable chaos ensued. Unsurprisingly it came in the form of one Sylvain Jose Gautier. 

“Mercedes, looking lovely as always,” the redheaded man greeted, his attempts at roguish charm on full display.

“Why hello Sylvain,” the champagne blonde returned kindly, “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Do I need any excuse to enjoy the presence of such a beautiful woman as yourself?”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at the display. It was a game they played. Sylvain would shamelessly flirt with Mercie, laying it on as thickly as possible and Mercedes would indulge his whims while keeping up her air of disinterest. Ingrid, quite honestly, did not understand how their friendship worked. At least with Sylvain and Dorothea the two got a kick out of constantly trying to one-up the other. 

“Sure, sure,” Mercedes responded with a wave of her hand, “What do you really need?”

“I may need to borrow your companion for like ten minutes. Twenty tops. Felix has dishonored my good name and I cannot let that stand.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Ingrid asked indignantly, arms crossed over her chest. 

“He had the gall to say that him and Dima would reign supreme in a game of chicken.”

“Oh no. No no no, Sylvain,” Ingrid asserted, “No way. The last time we played chicken you two got way too competitive and I almost drowned because you decided to just try to tackle Dimitri with me still on your shoulders.”

“But, Ingrid,” the man whined pitifully, “I promise to trust your capabilities this time.”

“I have to admit I am quite curious to see how this goes,” Mercedes said with clear amusement. 

“See, Mercedes thinks it’s a good idea,” the man stated as he puffed out his chest in triumph. 

“It would be quite interesting to see your athleticism put to use outside of the soccer field,” Mercedes said with a pout as she turned her attention to Ingrid and made use of her long fluttering eyelashes.

“Fine,” Ingrid grumbled as she cut her eyes dangerously at her best friend, “But if I die I will haunt you at the most inopportune of times. Like any time you bring home a girl, Sylvain. Boom. Ghost Ingrid. You’ll never get laid again.”

“Bold of you to assume I have enough shame to stop fucking with you there,” Sylvain taunted, “Really I’m quite shocked, Ing. Never took you for a voyeur.” 

Ingrid’s face grew hot and she heard Mercedes giggle beside her. She still wasn’t sure how or why she put up with her friends. 

“Felix, Ingrid is in. You guys are going down,” Sylvain shouted excitedly as he splashed over to where their other friends were relaxing in the water. 

“Has he always been such a character,” Mercedes questioned as they followed Sylvain over to the group. 

“Oh, one hundred percent. A lot of his flirting and bravado are for show, but the antics are all him. Honestly, I don’t know where we would all be without Sylvain. Dima gets stuck inside his head far too often. Felix pushes himself way too hard. And I’ve always put the weight of the world and its expectations on my shoulders. Sylvain has always been the one to be there when we need it the most. He pulls Dimitri out of his thoughts, makes sure Felix takes breaks, and has always been my shoulder. He brings the levity we need. And in turn we make sure to keep him in line when need be. It’s why we’ve all been friends for so long. He’s the heart of the group.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“Oh God, don’t tell  _ him _ that. His ego doesn’t need any more inflation. Besides, he knows we all love him. Even when we want to murder him. Which is a lot of the time.”

“It’s good you have them. And they’re really lucky to have you. You’re quick to point out how much Sylvain does, but you really don’t see how much you do for your friends. And not just the boys.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ingrid pushed off with a laugh, “Better go get this over with.”

Ingrid noticed that a lot of their group were lounging on the beach. Edelgard and Byleth were spread out on a beach blanket and appeared to be deep in conversation. Hubert and Bernadetta were relaxing close by the other two under a big beach umbrella. Bernie sat between Hubert’s legs and was pressed with her back against his chest reading a book. Leonie, Raphael, and Claude appeared to be in an intense game of volleyball against Ferdinand, Petra, and Hilda; Marianne watching from the sidelines and sending support to Hilda whenever she managed to hit the ball. Linhardt and Lysithea had both decided to stay back at the beach house. The latter claiming to burn easily and the former more than likely napping somewhere in the house. Dorothea and Annette were a few feet away from the boys. Mercedes joined the two as Ingrid waded over to her three best friends. 

“Okay, so the rules are simple,” Sylvain began, “The first team to hit the water loses.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows how chicken works,” Felix responded sardonically with a roll of his eyes. 

“No trying to tackle the base this time,” Dima added while eying Sylvain warily. 

With that Dimitri kneeled down in the water to allow Felix to get atop his shoulders before standing and moving slightly deeper into the ocean. 

“Come on, Ing, climb up top,” Sylvain said as he crouched down, “Probably your only chance to be a top anyways.”

“Hey!” Ingrid shouted as she tried unsuccessfully to push the redhead under the water. She was vaguely aware of Dorothea and Mercedes laughing at Sylvain’s quip. 

Without any further delay she climbed on top of his shoulders. 

“I have half a mind to lose on purpose just to spite you.”

He scoffed, “You wouldn’t dare. You know just as well as I do how insufferable Felix gets when he wins.”

She begrudgingly accepted his point as they got in position in front of Dimitri and Felix. With the count of three Ingrid and Felix faced off with determination. The two on the bottom doing their best to firmly plant their feet in the sand to keep a solid base. 

“Woo! Go Ingrid!”

“Take him down, Ingrid!”

“Show her who’s boss, Felix!”

The friends tried not to pay attention to the three women cheering them on, remaining focused on the task at hand. Hands were on shoulders, pushing, grabbing. Ingrid managed to grapple Felix into a headlock and did her best to pull him to the side, but Dimitri kept a steadfast hold on his friend. 

“Sylvain, Dima’s fourth grade pool party” the blonde woman instructed her friend below her. 

In tandem Sylvain pushed out his left leg in between Dimitri’s legs and swiped just as Ingrid made another attempt to tug Felix to the side. It worked and both of the two went tumbling back into the water. 

“Another win for the reigning champions,” Sylvain hollered and sent a wink to the three women on the sidelines before tipping Ingrid backwards off his shoulders into the water. 

The blonde soccer player managed to pull herself back to the surface, coughing on salt water. 

“Sylvain!” She yelled, her voice hoarse from the water, “You are a dead man.”

“And that’s my cue ladies,” he said with a chuckle as he made haste to swim in the opposite direction of his very incensed best friend. 

Ingrid, however, moved a little quicker in the water than the redheaded man and with full force tackled him into the water; the two wrestling in the shallows. 


	7. 5C: Mercedes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, yeah, that one-sided Mercedes/Ingrid tag is there for a reason and I am very sorry. There is a reason that I ended up with two filler chapters before this one. Once again, this fic is super unbeta-ed and for the most part kind of a stream of consciousness thing to get me back into writing, but I really hope you guys like it as much as I've been enjoying writing it.

The original plan for the first night at the beach house had involved a bonfire on the beach. That was the plan at least until it became apparent that Dimitri had left the permit back at their apartment. 

“I’m so sorry, El,” the blonde haired man apologised for what seemed like the twentieth time, “I really just wanted you to have the perfect 21st birthday and I ruined it. I’m the worst brother.”

“Dima, it’s okay,” Edelgard soothed, “It’s really not a big deal. We can set up the fire pit in the backyard and hang out by the pool.”

Despite the calming words Dimitri still appeared absolutely crestfallen. Once again Ingrid watched as her friend took even the smallest inconvenience to heart. 

“Come on, let’s go get dressed,” she said as she tugged on the front of the shirt, “We have a night to salvage. We passed a Walmart on the way here. I think it’s like a thirty minute drive back. We’ll go pick up enough firewood to keep the pit going all weekend if we want.”

Ingrid shot her friend an encouraging smile. She knew the best way to get him out of a funk was to make him feel useful. 

“Right,” he nodded, his face still serious, “I’ll find out if we need anything else while we’re out.”

Ingrid made haste in changing out of her swimsuit and into dry clothes, throwing on a mint green polo shirt and a pair of cutoff jean shorts. She slid into her flip flops and met Dimitri by his car. 

The first ten minutes of the drive continued in relative silence. Ingrid spent the time staring out the window at the passing scenery, watching the stretch of sand and ocean as they drove by. Dimitri was drumming his fingers onto the steering wheel along to the beat of whatever country song was playing on the radio. She tried not to groan at his choice of music. It was his car after all. 

“So,” Dimtri cut in his own awkward way, “How have you been?”

Ingrid eyed him skeptically from her peripheral vision, “Dima, I swear if you’re trying to stage some sort of intervention I will open this door and roll out of this moving car.”

The blonde man snorted, “Nothing of the sort. It’s just been forever since we’ve really hung out just the two of us. I feel like Sylvain is the only one of us that really gets any of your time lately.”

“Awwwww, Dima, are you jealous of Sylvain?”

“What? No. It’s just, we all used to tell each other everything, you know? And with soccer and classes, other friends, you with work, and Felix with Annette, it feels like we’re growing apart. Except you and Sylvain. And I only see Felix as much as I do because of shared classes and practice. We feel less like a group of four and more like we’ve split into pairs.”

“I mean, we’re growing up, figuring things out. Life is busy for all of us; there’s bound to be a little bit of growing apart. But Dima, you’ll always be our fearless leader.”

“Fearless leader, huh? Doesn’t feel like it most of the time. I can’t even keep us together,” he muttered darkly. 

“That’s always been Sylvain. You’re the head. He’s the heart.”

“If that’s the case then you’re our soul, Ing, you’ve always been the very best of us.”

“Then what does that make Felix?”

“A pain in my ass,” he said with a laugh. 

“Dimitri!” Ingrid scolded.

“I’m just kidding. You know he’s always been like my right hand. If I’m our ‘fearless leader’, he’s always been my guide.”

“Don’t tell him I said that,” the blonde man added a moment later, almost like an afterthought. 

“I guess if I must,” she joked. 

By the time the sun had started to dip below the horizon line the fire pit was already roaring with life. They had set up various beach chairs and blankets in a wide circle and were basking in its warmth. Ingrid was in between Sylvain and Dimitri on a large checkered quilt. She was sipping on a Redd’s Blueberry Ale from one of the summer party packs that had been picked up from the Walmart trip earlier in the evening. They had been specifically requested by Mercedes and Annette, and as much as Ingrid wasn’t typically picky about her alcohol, she refused to sully her taste buds on the pisswater beers that had been procured en masse for the weekend; that and her typical choices of beer were a little heavy for a beach weekend. The overall mood was serene as everyone sat around the fire talking amongst themselves in groups. 

Sylvain suddenly sat up next to her, “We should play a game.”

“Uh, like what kind of game?” Dimitri asked the redhead, his voice slow, almost cautious. 

“I don’t know a party game, a drinking game, something,” Sylvain offered in turn. 

Directly across from them Dorothea snorted, “What Sylvain, like Truth or Dare? What are we back in middle school?”

“I don’t know, Dorothea, I’m sure I could think of a few dares you’d enjoy,” Sylvain teased with a lecherous grin and wiggling eyebrows. 

“Ugh, disgusting,” Ingrid huffed next to him and punched him in the arm.

“Ow, Ing,” he complained as he rubbed his arm, “I’m just saying it could be fun. Maybe something more like Never Have I Ever. No dares needed.”

Edelgard who was sandwiched in between Hubert and Byleth spoke up, “I mean, it could be fun. I’ve, uh, never really had the chance to play any party games like it before.”

Sylvain rubbed his hands together excitedly, “So it’s been decided. You want to start us off birthday girl?”

“Uh, oh no, I have to think of something on the spot don’t I?” She asked with a frown. 

“Oh! Never have I ever played on a sports team,” she threw out excitedly as half of the circle took a sip of their drinks, “Your go Hubert.”

“Hmmm, never have I ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend,” he said with a smirk as he cut his eyes towards his best friend. 

“Hubert!” Edelgard said indignantly, “You’re an only child. That’s hardly fair.”

“Then it’s something I couldn’t have done. Drink up El,” he responded sounding all too satisfied. 

Sylvain perked up, “Oh this I  _ have  _ to know.”

Dimitri snorted, “Oh I actually know this one. Ingrid was her lesbian awakening.”

“DIMITRI!” Edelgard shouted at her step-brother across the fire, her face turning scarlet enough to show in the light on the flames. 

“Awwww, El. You had a crush on me? That’s so embarrassing,” Ingrid teased with a grin, enjoying seeing her normally reserved friend flustered. 

“It was the seventh grade and you were constantly around and you were nice to me!” The small pale haired woman defended. 

“Oh, it was adorable, Ing, she used to doodle Mrs. Edelgard Galatea surrounded by little hearts in her notebooks,” Dimitri joined in on the ribbing. 

“Dimitri cried after he lost his virginity because the experience was, and I quote, ‘so beautiful’!”

“Edelgard slept with a nightlight until she was sixteen!”

“Dimitri-” Edelgard started before Mercedes cut in. 

“Okay children. I think that’s enough for now,” she scolded making both the siblings look properly chastised. 

“Come on Mercie, that was just getting good,” Hilda whined from her spot in the corner next to Marianne and Claude. 

“Terrible, the lot of you,” Mercedes grumbled as she shook her head at her friends. 

From there the statements got more risque from ‘Never have I ever had a threesome’ to ‘Never have I ever had sex in public’, or just became attempts to embarrass friends. As the night went on Ingrid couldn’t help but feel a little left out as she had barely touched her drink. The only person who had taken less sips of their drink had been Lysithea, thankfully as she was the baby of the group only going into her sophomore year. She had also learned  _ way _ more than she ever needed to know about her friend’s sex lives. She also couldn’t help the way her eyes unconsciously drifted across the fire to meet Dorothea’s gaze throughout the game, cheeks heating at every smile thrown her way. The game was winding down, most of the friend group varying levels of buzzed to tipsy and Ingrid noticed the flames were starting to dim down. 

“I’m going to go get some more firewood,” she announced to no one in particular. 

“Oh, I’ll help you,” Mercedes offered and tagged along after Ingrid, both of them missing the concerned look Annette sent their way. 

Ingrid has three logs of firewood stacked in her arms when Mercedes leans against the side of the house, her gaze locked firmly on the form of her blonde friend. 

“Ingrid,” Mercedes said, voice low, almost timid, “I wanted to talk to you about something if you don’t mind.”

“Sure Mercie, you know you can talk to me about anything,” she replied, lips quirked in a half-smile. 

“Okay, I know this is probably terrible timing but I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t say it.”

“Mercie…”

“No, just please let me get this out. Ingrid, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mercie, you’re one of my closest friends.”

The other woman’s eyebrows knitted together, her lips pursed, “I don’t know if you’re really this oblivious, or you’re being purposely obtuse to spare my feelings. I am  _ in  _ love with you.”

The pile of firewood that had been carefully stacked in her arms comes tumbling down. In a moment’s notice it is almost like the air has been sucked out of her lungs, like she can’t breathe.

“Mercie,” Ingrid said in a breathless rasp.

She knew there had been feelings. Dima and Annie had said that there were feelings, but she had never expected, could have never fathomed the depth her friend had felt for her. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I know, okay? I see how you look at me, you know? I don’t even think you see it. The lingering looks, the attraction. And at first I thought that was my chance, that you had finally started to see  _ me _ . Not as sweet scatterbrained Mercie. But then Dorothea came along, and just the way you look at her. It’s like she’s the sun. You don’t even notice how you gravitate towards her when she’s around, always in her orbit. You can’t see the other stars in the sky when the sun is right there.”

“Mercie, I don’t, I’m not, ugh,” Ingrid huffed out a frustrated sigh. 

The soccer player inhaled steadily before she continued, “I don’t even know what I want or how I feel most of the time. But I know that you are kind and thoughtful and so  _ beautiful _ . I know that anyone would be lucky to have you. I’m so sorry that it’s not me. You’re so perfect, Mercie. You shouldn’t want me. I’m a mess.”

“I’m not  _ perfect _ ,” Mercedes scoffed, “Everyone is so quick to put me on this pedestal and it’s not fair. I can’t live up to the way everyone sees me. I can be thoughtless. I can be selfish. You make me want to be selfish.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You deserve someone who will treat you like a person to cherish and not an ideal to uphold.”

“Ingrid, lovely chivalrous Ingrid. How can you expect me to not love you when you say things like that? You’re so focused on your goal and ideals that you can’t see the things plainly in front of you. She loves you too, you know? So I need you to promise me something. Please tell her how you feel before it’s too late. Please don’t lose your chance like I did. And please promise me that you’ll remain my friend. You mean everything to me. Your friendship means everything to me. And I love and respect you enough that being your friend isn’t a consolation prize to my feelings.”

Ingrid took two quick steps towards Mercedes and pulled her into a tight hug, burying her face into the other woman’s neck. 

“I promise you that I would never cast away your friendship for something you didn’t ask for and can’t control. I can’t imagine a life without you in it, Mercie. I can promise you that. As for the other thing, I can promise I will try.”

“I really want to quote the small green man from those movies you made me watch,” Mercedes joked with a tight voice as she tried not to cry.

“Yoda? From Star Wars?” Ingrid asked, “Were you really going to ‘Do or do not, there is no try’ me?”

“Well, I would have if I actually remembered the quote correctly. So I’m glad you did it to yourself.”

Both women pulled back and laughed before Mercedes broke out into a cry.

“Oh, Mercie,” Ingrid said soothingly as she ran her hand through her friend’s hair, “I’m going to go get Annie. You need someone right now and for obvious reasons it cannot be me.”

Ingrid made haste to pick up the logs she had previously dropped and brought them over to the firepit. She dropped the logs in front of Dimitri so he could get the fire blazing again before she made her way over to Annette.

“Mercedes really needs you right now,” she whispered just low enough for the redhead to hear, “She told me she loved me. I tried to help as best I could, but I’m probably not the best person to be there for her right now.”

Annette nodded resolutely before getting up and surprising Ingrid by pulling her into a quick hug, “Thank you, Ingrid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that conversation at the end was actually one of two conversations that I had planned before the first words of this fic were ever even written down (the second one hasn't happened yet). I needed Mercedes to be the final person to call Ingrid out. I needed her to be the catalyst for what happens next. Also, Mercedes deserves the world and I am already planning a fic for her in this universe because woman deserves a happy ending.


	8. 1A: Dorothea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I have no excuse for why this took so long to post. I got Persona 5. I am blaming work and Persona 5. This section also ended up longer than expected. So the last two chapters are now three. Hopefully the next one will be up sooner than this one was.

Ingrid awoke with an unfocused mind as she rubbed the sleep from bleary eyes. Her night had been restless, thoughts plagued by her conversation with Mercedes the night before. It didn’t help that she was almost unbearably aware of the brunette songstress that shared the bed. Ingrid had spent the night falling in and out of sleep while trying to remain as close to the edge of her side of the bed; and every time she stirred she found her body had unconsciously gravitated towards the other woman in her sleep. Ingrid silently cursed that she had agreed to share the bed with Dorothea. She could have easily grabbed one of the bunks, but she never could find a way to say no to the woman that shined as bright as the morning sun. Mercedes was right. Without even realizing it Ingrid had found herself swept up in Dorothea’s orbit. She was in love with the sun, in love with the woman that had slowly become the center of her universe. 

While most of the group spent the day at the beach like the day prior, Ingrid had decided she would spend the day by the pool back at the house. It was peaceful. She had picked the perfect spot to soak up the sun’s rays, lounged back on one of the pool chairs, sunglasses resting on her face. She could sit back, relax, and maybe even pick up a nice tan along the way. The soccer player had been close to dozing when a loud crash came from within the beach house. Ingrid jolted upright and immediately rounded inside to make sure everything was alright. Instant regret colored her features as her face heated. 

Perched upon the counter was none other than Edelgard, her childhood friend, sister to one of her dearest friends. The smaller woman’s face and chest flushed, head tilted back and resting against the upper kitchen cabinets. A familiar head of teal hair had her face pressed against the crook of the other woman’s neck. From this angle Ingrid could see the older woman’s hand working below her friend’s bathing suit bottoms, a high pitched whine working its way from Edelgard’s throat. 

“Oh my God!” Ingrid shouted, immediately turning around and pushing the palms of her hands into her eyes in an effort to burn the image out of her mind.

A squeak sounded from behind her as she heard shuffling of feet and the rustling of clothes being readjusted. The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention. 

“You can, uh, you can turn around now,” Edelgard said, her voice meek in a way Ingrid had never heard. 

Ingrid turned around to see her friend hiding behind Byleth, face pressed into the taller woman’s shoulder as she peered around towards her friend. 

“So, I didn’t realize anyone was still in the house…” her friend trailed off with a scarlet face. 

“That’s one of the reasons I decided to hang back,” Ingrid offered awkwardly, “Figured I’d get some peace and quiet by the pool.”

“And have an excuse to avoid Mercie and Dorothea,” Byleth said, voice lacking any form of inflection, just flat. It was always her eyes that revealed the other woman’s emotions. Ingrid was reading a mix of disappointment and pity, with maybe a dash of protectiveness thrown in. 

“Mercie is a good friend, you know.”

“Nuh uh, we are not deflecting here. This,” Ingrid said as she waved her hands back and forth between the two women in front of her, “So not about me right now. How long has this been going on? And the kitchen? Really? You have a whole bedroom!”

“We may have been caught up in the heat of the moment,” Edelgard said; she was still being shy, something Ingrid was not used to seeing in her. 

“Okay, but when did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago,” Byleth offered with a shrug.

“A few weeks?! Why didn’t you guys tell anyone?”

“It’s not like we were hiding it,” Edelgard said, a bit more bite in her voice, “I mean, it’s not like anyone questioned why we were sharing a room here. It’s new and we wanted to have just a little bit of time for just us before everyone else started butting in.”

“So no one else knows?” Ingrid asked. 

“Not even Hubert.” 

“Well, I guess no one is winning that bet,” Ingrid said with a laugh. 

“You bet on us?” Edelgard sputtered. 

“Hubert, Dorothea, and I,” Ingrid said, “Though I guess Dorothea was wrong about Byleth being a bottom.”

Edelgard snorted, “A service top is still a bottom.”

Byleth huffed in response, “Really, El?”

“It’s okay baby. We know who’s really in charge here,” Edelgard said before whispering something into the teal haired woman’s ear. Whatever it was made her face turn beet red. 

Ingrid cleared her throat, “I’m still here you know.”

“Sorry,” Edelgard said with an uncharacteristic giggle. The soccer player had to acknowledge that she had never seen her friend look so carefree and happy. Edelgard had a habit of playing Atlas, carrying all the world’s burdens on her shoulders. It was a pleasant surprise to see her so light. 

“Look, Ingrid,” Byleth interjected, her tone serious, “We’re going to tell everyone in our own time, but if you could keep this between us for now, we’d really appreciate it.”

Ingrid made a motion of zipping her lips, “Not a word from me. But you guys should tell everyone soon. I’m sure they’ll all be happy for you.”

“Right, well we’re off,” Byleth said as she swooped Edelgard into her arms making her way towards the shorter woman’s bedroom. 

“You might want some headphones if you’re going to stick around,” she threw over her shoulder with a wink. 

Ingrid made haste to the guest room to grab her bluetooth headphones before heading back outside. She took her same spot as before but laid on her stomach to get some sun on her back. Headphones placed in her ear, she turned on one of her indie folk playlists and closed her eyes. She let herself be distracted by the music, focusing on Hozier’s crooning voice in her ear and blatantly ignoring what was surely going on inside the house. After a few songs, Ingrid found herself relaxed enough to drift off into a peaceful sleep. 

The sensation of something cold and wet tore Ingrid out of her slumber. It sent a shock through her system; she jerked from her position on the pool chair and onto the concrete beside it. Her first instinct was to assume Sylvain had something to do with it, but the melodic laughter that followed the act gave away the true culprit. 

“You were looking a little hot there, my lovely Ingrid,” Dorothea giggled, “I figured you could use something to cool you down.”

Ingrid attempted to look annoyed, but the best she could do in the other woman’s presence was a rather pathetic looking pout. This sent the songstress into another fit of laughter. 

“You look positively adorable like that,” she said, eyes full of mirth, “I don’t ever think I’ve seen  _ you  _ pout before.”

“I was sleeping,” Ingrid whined, “Don’t you think there are better ways to wake someone?”

“Better ways, sure, but this was much more fun. Besides, your shoulders were starting to get a little pink. I would hate for you to get sunburnt because you lost track of time sleeping in the sun.”

“Oh, I see, so really it was for  _ my  _ benefit in the end.”

“Of course, darling, you know me all too well. Altruism is my true calling.”

“Truer than you probably think,” Ingrid replied with a soft smile. 

Dorothea pulled up another lounge chair and put it next to Ingrid’s as the soccer player pushed herself up from the ground and sunk back into her previous spot. 

“So do you want to tell me why you’ve been acting so strange?” Dorothea questioned with a raised brow. 

“I haven’t been acting strange.”

“Ingrid…”

“I just needed some time to clear my head. I needed to think. Away from everyone and everything.”

“Is that why Mercedes has been acting weird today too?”

Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the songstress, “Now you’re just fishing for gossip.”

“Or I’m trying to figure out why everyone is being weird on our group trip. Mercie has been glued to Annie’s side all day and has been withdrawn. Byleth and Edie disappeared forever ago to God knows where. And you’ve sequestered yourself away by the pool. Okay, so I guess not  _ everyone _ is being weird, but enough people for me to be concerned.”

Ingrid drew in a deep breath. Dorothea was quite possibly the  _ last _ person she could talk to about this. She surely couldn’t speak for Byleth and Edelgard. 

“I don’t know how to talk about this,” Ingrid, instead, admitted quietly, her voice so low the brunette almost missed it. 

“Oh my sweet Ingrid,” Dorothea said with her brow furrowed, “You can talk to me about anything.”

There was something about the woman sitting next to Ingrid that just had a way of drawing people in, a sort of raw magnetism. Ingrid had sensed it from the moment she laid eyes on her. Edelgard had dragged her along to the spring musical sophomore year, which coincidentally had been Spring Awakening. Ingrid still didn’t know how they got away with performing it. Dorothea, of course, had been the lead and from the opening notes of the first song the flaxen haired soccer player was captivated. At the time she had chalked it up to Dorothea’s brilliant performance; had excused herself for being flustered as El introduced them after the show to having seen the other woman bare breasted on stage and pantomiming sex with Ferdinand of all people as the male lead. In retrospect, Ingrid realized she had been smitten from the moment she saw Dorothea step on that stage to the moment she grasped Ingrid’s hand in greeting, her beautiful smile and emerald eyes radiated empathy and kindness that did nothing but make her outward beauty shine all the brighter. 

“Mercedes confessed to me last night,” Ingrid rushed out, her cheeks tinted pink. 

“Oh…” Dorothea responded, sounding breathless, “How did that go?”

“She told me that she would regret not telling me she loved me even though she knew it wasn’t mutual.”

“It’s not? Mercie is beautiful and an absolute sweetheart. Or, I mean, I know you’re not, um, you’re not…”

“It’s okay, Thea, I’m something. And I know anyone would be lucky to be with her, but she was right. It was too late, because I, well I, I’m in love with someone else.”

Dorothea was quiet, she appeared to be deep in thought, lips pursed, brow furrowed, “You are? It’s just, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never shown interest in anyone. Is this a recent development?”

“I guess you could say that. I’m not really, you know, in touch with my own feelings, so it’s something that I’ve recently figured out. But it’s also something that’s been a long time coming,” Ingrid said with a wry grimace, “Apparently I was the last person to know. Well, maybe second to last. I’m pretty sure  _ they _ don’t know.”

“Is it someone I know? Oh God, it’s not Sylvain, is it? Please tell me it’s not Sylvain. Ingrid, sweetheart, you can do so much better.”

Ingrid choked back a laugh, her face a mixture incredulous and disgusted, “What?! God no! He’s like my brother. Jesus, Dorothea.”

“Well, I don’t know. He’s one of the few people you’re physically affectionate with. Is it someone from your team?” Dorothea asked with a sheepish look. 

“No. We’re not doing this. You wanted to know what was up. I told you. But we are  _ not _ playing twenty questions about my lack of love life. Besides, it’s not like they could ever feel the same way about me anyways.”

“Ingrid, you really don’t realize how incredible you are, do you?”

“Thea, I…” The soccer player trailed off, not sure how to respond. She found herself captivated by the soft look on the other woman’s face. 

It was at that exact moment they were interrupted by an incredibly loud shout. 

“I am Ferdinand von Aegir!” The ginger man shouted as he made a dash towards the pool and turning himself into a cannonball; water splashing the two women sitting there. Laughter could be heard behind them as Claude and Hilda joined Ferdinand in the pool. Ingrid had never felt more grateful for an interruption in her life. 


	9. 1B: The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I pretty much fell off the face of the planet. Work has been insane and I've been working towards a promotion which I was just informed Friday that I got. I also had crazy writer's block and have been quite distracted by a very pretty girl. This chapter is dedicated to my new favorite lightweight.

Ingrid didn’t know how she got roped into being Felix’s beer pong partner. Something about Sylvain already being too far gone and Dimitri being “about as proficient at beer pong as a boar”. She stood next to him across the table from Claude and Hilda. 

“We have this, Ingrid,” Felix said, his mouth drawn in a serious line, determination painting his features, “Claude is about as drunk as Sylvain and Hilda didn’t make one shot last match. You’re my ringer.”

Across from them Claude stumbled forward with a goofy grin plastered to is face as he threw an arm around Hilda’s shoulder, “I am perfectly - hiccup - prefectly sober thank you.”

Hilda giggled and flopped her head towards Claude, “Uh, I think you may have had too much of my Jungle Juice, Claude. Maybe we  _ should  _ sit this one out.” 

“Pshhhhh, we got this Hil. These - hiccup - guys don’t stand a chance,” Claude responded as Hilda kept him in place from wavering, “Loser shoots first, right Felix, thems was the rules?”

“Not that it will make a difference in your imminent demise, but sure, losers shoot first,” Felix said, his face just as resolute as before. There was no question of their victory, not with Ingrid at his side. 

After some brief whispering between the two across the table Hilda lined up a shot; she lifted her hands like she was trying to calculate the physics behind the shot. She pulled her arm back and completely overshot the table hitting Felix square in the chest. 

“Awww man,” she pouted, “I really thought I had it that time.”

“Ish fineeee,” Claude slurred, “Your boy has got this.”

Claude stumbled forward and his hip bumped into the table as he made his way to line up his shot. His pink haired friend steadied him and pulled him back the correct distance from the table to make his shot. He closed one eye and lifted his hand in concentration. The ping pong ball arced out of his hand right towards the middle of the triangle of cups and at the last second bounced right off the rim of the middle cup and off the table. 

“Ugh, so close there,” Claude said with a grin, “Hey, why don’t we make this more - hiccup - interesting? Losing team has to do a flight of tequila shots each.”

Hilda scrunched her face, “I think you’ve had enough tonight, sweetie. Maybe that’s not the smartest bet.”

The bet hit on Felix’s inability to turn down a challenge, “You know what, you’re on.”

Ingrid balked. Her forehead pinching. She hadn’t drank much besides the same cider she had been nursing for most of the night. The soccer player had no plans of getting drunk that night. She had never been much of a heavy drinker anyways. Sylvain could sometimes get her to let loose, but that was still far and few in between. 

“Felix, I really don’t want to risk having to drink tequila. You remember what happened the last time Sylvain got me to do tequila shots with him.”

“Relax, Ing, I watched their last game against Ferdinand and Leonie and they got their asses handed to them. Hilda overshoots every time and Claude might make a shot or two, but he’s in no position to win the game for them. Trust me.”

“Fine,” Ingrid agreed with a deep sigh, “Losers have to do a flight of tequila shots each.”

“Well I guess if Ingrid is agreeing I have no choice but to say yes,” Hilda said with an exaggerated huff. 

With her hand in place, Ingrid lined up her shot. She took her time to eye the angles and released the ball. It sunk right into the fourth cup on the right in the back row. Hilda took it upon herself to drain the contents of the red solo cup with a grimace. 

“Why did we let the boys pick up cheap beer. Like, they couldn’t have even sprung for like some Yuengling or something? Like seriously, who decided on Bud light as the beer of choice for the weekend?”

Ferdinand scoffed from the side of the table where he sat on a blanket cuddled into Hubert’s side as the other man played with the ginger man’s long flowing locks; the man decided to let his hair down for once instead of the standard bun that he usually placed his lengthy hair in as it made it easier for soccer practice. His arms were wrapped around Bernadetta’s midsection as she sat in his lap, one of her hands were laced with the hand Hubert wasn’t using to play with Ferdinand’s hair. 

“The 24 packs of Bud Light were bogo. I was shooting for quantity over quality. I had to purchase enough beer for the twenty of us and I refused to slander my good name by showing up with less than enough for everyone to have a good time this weekend,” the ginger haired man ranted. 

“Fine fine,” Hilda responded, “You did show up with a lot so I guess you’re forgiven.” 

“Enough small talk,” Felix cut in gruffly as he lined up his shot; sure enough it landed directly into the very front cup with very little effort, “And that’s backs.”

Hilda rolled both the ping pong balls back across the table to Ingrid and Felix as Claude drank the beer from the shot Felix just landed. Ingrid lined up her next shot and made it into the center cup with ease. Felix took aim and hit the right in between the two cups of the second row and bounced forward. 

“Well, I guess it’s back to us then,” Hilda said with a grin. 

Hilda’s face got serious and she threw her ball and it landed right into the left cup in the second row. 

“Oh wow, look, Claude, I finally made one,” the pink haired woman shouted excitedly as she bounced up and down. Ingrid gulped back the contents of the cup with a grimace. She had not had nearly enough alcohol to be able to tolerate the taste of the swill that filled the bottom quarter of the cup. Felix grumbled next to her. 

Claude took hold of the second ball and straightened up. His entire demeanor changed. Where before he was a stumbling mess, he now stood there cool and collected with clear eyes and a smirk. The ball arced with precision into the cup right next to where Hilda’s landed. 

“Oh, looks like that going to be backs for us now Felix buddy,” Claude stated clearly, all sense of slurred speech gone from his voice, “Drink up.”

Hilda made her next shot, this time the right middle cup in the back row. Claude took his turn and sunk a shot right into the middle cup. 

“Well would you look at that, must be a lucky game,” Claude said cockily, “That’s backs again.”

Hilda made her next shot easily right into the front cup, “Wow, I really can’t believe my luck. I’m usually, like, so bad at this.”

Felix growled next to Ingrid, she could tell his mood was quickly deteriorating, “You guys sharked us. You threw the last game and Claude was pretending to be drunk the whole time!”

“Mwah, do something so underhanded,” Claude replied with a hand on his chest and voice feigning mock hurt, “Felix you know me better than that. I just happened to sober up in between rounds is all.”

The dark haired man shot a wink across the table as he made his next shot, but it landed slightly too far to the right of the middle cup and outside the one next to it on the right.

“Come on, Ingrid, we can’t let these hustlers win,” Felix snarled. 

The flaxen haired soccer player easily landed her shot into the left cup on the second row. Felix took aim and completely overshot the table in his annoyance bringing the game back in the hands of their opponents. 

The two friends on the other end of the table easily landed shots into the two left-hand cups in the back row. Felix narrowed his eyes as he tossed both balls back to Claude and Hilda a little harder than he needed to. While Ingrid and Felix had only knocked out four of the ten cups, their adversaries only needed three cups to win. 

“I think now would be the perfect time for a re-rack,” Hilda said as she turned to look at Claude. 

“You know, Hilda, I think you’re right. Felix, buddy, would you mind making the last three cups into a triangle?” Claude asked with an absolute look of glee on his face. 

The two proceeded to make all three shots. 

“We still get redemption,” Felix said, his voice sounding completely menacing. 

Ingrid made her shot despite the pressure of the glare Felix sent her way. Felix again sent his ball towards the opposite end of the table and overshot the table. The angrier Felix got the worse his shots had gotten. He realized he had played exactly into Claude’s hands. 

“You guys planned this, why?” Ingrid asked with a slight hint of disapproval in her voice. She knew had they been aware of the other two player’s skill from the start they would have had an equal chance of winning. Felix just happened to be easy to rile up. 

Hilda shrugged, almost seeming bored, “You and Felix rarely let loose at these things. Claude, Sylvain, and I thought it would be fun to get you guys wasted. Sylvain was our key player in figuring out how to make Felix angry enough to start missing.”

It was at that moment a half naked and very drunk Sylvain came outside carrying a tray of five shot glasses full of tequila in each arm, Dimitri behind him to make sure that the very intoxicated redhead did not drop either tray full of liquor. 

The blonde man gave his other two friends a sheepish look, his blue eyes apologetic, “By the time I realized what was going on it was too late to stop it.” 

Ingrid placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder and gave him a soft look, eyes conveying a depth of understanding that could only pass between the two of them. Ingrid understood Felix’s drive the best out of the core four friends and she knew exactly why he pushed himself so hard and why he was so competitive. 

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out a heavy sigh, “I guess a bet is a bet.”

With that they each took a shot glass and tossed back the shot. Ingrid winced as the liquor slid down the back of her throat and warmed her belly. She was more of a whiskey girl if she had to pick a liquor. A good whiskey or bourbon was nice on occasion. SoCo and coke was her go to mixed drink if she had to choose. But she liked beer more than anything, especially stouts and porters, though she wouldn’t turn her nose up at a pale ale with citrus notes. Blue Moon was her go to pitcher when they would go out to a sports bar. She never really developed a palate for wine. Tequila, however, was the bane of her existence and Sylvain was intimately aware of this. For some reason the liquor was the quickest way to get the soccer player to lose her wits. Felix could handle it better, but with the beer they’d already consumed from the last game of beer pong they were both bound to be messes within no time. 

“Woo! Yeah, come on guys, four more to go!” Sylvain drunkenly cheered, volume control not being one of his abilities at the moment, “Get on this level!”

Ingrid shared a look with Dimitri, “Do I even want to know why Sylvain is practically naked?”

“Pony by Ginuwine came on and our boy has already managed to hit stripper Sylvain levels. He did a strip tease and was adamant that the birthday girl get a lapdance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen El simultaneously so embarrassed and murderous at the same time,” the blonde haired man responded with a chuckle at the last part. 

“Don’t worry, Ingy,” Sylvain slurred and drunkenly curled himself into the side of her body, already having placed the trays of shots down on the beer pong table, “I haven’t forgotten about my best girl. There’s enough Sylvain to go around and ya boy is way too caked up for me not to give you a little dance later.”

Ingrid inwardly groaned and rolled her eyes, “Sylvain, I say this with all the love I can muster for you at this exact moment, which if I’m being honest is not much, I do not, repeat, do  _ not  _ want any kind of dance from you later. What I would like to do is find you some pants and a shirt.” 

“Ah ah ah,” Sylvain said with the waggle of his finger, “We’re not doing anything until you finish those shots. Look at Felix. Our boy has already finished his. 

Ingrid turned to look at her former beer pong partner and sure enough his tray of shots we cleared out, a scowl depicted across the man’s already harsh features, eyes slightly glassy as the liquor was already kicking in after throwing back the shots so quickly. 

“Ugh, fine, you’re the worst and I hate you,” Ingrid said with a frown as she threw back the remaining four shots. 

“That’s my girl,” Sylvain shouted entirely too loudly into her ear as he patted her back, “And you loveeeeeee me.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Ingrid grumbled.

Hilda made her way over to the pair and looped her arm with Ingrid’s arm that was not currently being utilized by Sylvain. 

“Don’t worry girl,” Hilda whispered conspiratorially, “I have the perfect chaser, You have  _ got _ to try my Jungle Juice.”

With that Ingrid found herself dragged towards the kitchen by Hilda and Sylvain as she cast pleading glances back towards Dimitri and Felix. Felix seemed to be very concerned with showering Annette with boundless affection and Dima was sadly, laughing at something Claude was saying.

It was about an hour later that Ingrid stumbled upon Dorothea. The songstress was sitting on one of the loveseats inside the beach house and appeared to be sipping from a blueberry cider.

“Theaaaa,” Ingrid greeted excitedly as she dropped down next to the other woman. Her light green eyes were glassy; her face flushed, tendrils of flaxen hair damp and stuck to her forehead. There was something very relaxed about her in a way she would not normally allow herself to be, her smile wide and earnest.

“My my, is that Ingrid?” Dorothea giggled, “Someone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

“Sylvain and Hilda might have gotten me a littleee bit tipsy,” Ingrid responded with slightly slurred speech.

“Oh, just a little bit?”

“Mm not drunk.”

“Of course not, darling.”

Ingrid crinkled her nose as her smile broadened, “I like when you call me that. It’s nice. You’re nice. You’re…you’re ethernal…wait no eteral…etheremel...ephemeral.”

“I’m fleeting?” The songstress joked as her emerald eyes twinkled with mischief.

“What? No, I was saying you’re really really pretty. Like out of this world pretty,” Ingrid said, her voice earnest and eyes bright.

“Ethereal?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Ephreal,” Ingrid pouted.

Dorothea threw her head back and laughed almost melodically and Ingrid was momentarily awestruck by the brunette. 

“Thea, wait, I gotta, I gotta tell you something portant,” Ingrid said, voice absolutely resolute, “Thea, I am in love with the sun.”

The brunette’s brow crinkled in confusion, “That’s nice sweetheart. Though I’m not quite sure if a celestial body can return your affections.”

“No no, wait. I am not esplaining m’self vey good,” Ingrid said, sounding a bit confused herself, “Thea, you just, did you know that you’re surrounded by gravity?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I believe that’s how science works.”

“Ughhh, you are not listening to me. It’s very portant, Thea.”

“Okay, my lovely Ingrid, I’m listening.”

“Everything gravitates around the sun. And it spins and because it spins it pulls things in. And the room is spinning. Thea, why is the room spinning?”

“Alright, Ingrid, here’s what we’re going to do. We are going to get you to drink a glass of water, and then I am going to put you to bed and put a glass of water next to you, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time so if you feel sick or anything you just let me know and I’ll take care of you, okay? I also may need to have some words with Sylvain and Hilda.”

“Actually sleep sounds good. Ish been a longgg night. Sylvain tried to give me a lap dance, Thea. It was awful,” Ingrid stated with wide, horrified eyes, eyes that have definitely seen some things.”

**Author's Note:**

> Add me on Twitter - DossierVakarian  
> Add me on Tumblr - mygirlfriendisthepinkranger


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